


Late Start: Covenant

by Thrythlind



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: Dark is not Evil, Darkstalker reference, Gold Digger cameo, Meta-Joke, Oni Kasumi, Other, Secret World References, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25536622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrythlind/pseuds/Thrythlind
Summary: A look at Kasumi's backstory a couple of years before Ranma shows up in Late Start. Some minor expository world building.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Late Start: Covenant

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Late Start](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24992596) by [Thrythlind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrythlind/pseuds/Thrythlind). 



“I’m heading out, Kasumi.” Akane said. “Did you need anything later?”

Kasumi smiled at her and slowly stood up to turn toward her sister. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”

Akane was worry and caution offering a trickle of love and concern which Kasumi graciously accepted into herself. The spirit within her sister raged back and forth, a bundle of anger and lightning which retreated and recoiled as Kasumi hugged her sister. Within herself, the start of a new impulse began to form but she willfully shutdown that lingering predatory remnant. Instead, she offered her own love and gratitude into her sister.

She pulled back and considered her sister wrapped in a feeling of concealment and discontent. It was the clothes, loose fitting slacks and light sweaters. They had been picked to hide her body and following that concept to its core, Kasumi could smell the shame formed in the disconnect of two ideals. On one side, the concept of femininity and the other the pride in her physical power and muscles. Between the two was this other concept, an external concept that had been brought inward so deep it was masquerading as something natural to her sister. A concept that allowed for one of the ideals Akane pursued, but not both.

“You should wear more dresses. You love them so much.” Kasumi said. She watched that foreign concept crack just slightly. “It’s a shame to just buy them and never wear them.”

“Yeah, but I don’t really look good in them anymore.” Akane said. Embarrassment rose to the surface and she looked away.

“Who says you don’t?” Kasumi asked, tilting her head to the side and smiling. That foreign concept cracked again as Akane thought about it.

“Well, anyway. I’ve got to head to classes. See you later.”

“All right. Have a good day at university.”

Kasumi smiled and waved as Akane left the building. She’d have to look again to see if the prohibition repaired itself, but she was confident that her sister would let her own nature shine through eventually. She only needed a bit more encouragement to do so.

Her father walked out into the room and sat down with his newspaper. He was a much more difficult proposition. That wasn’t a handful of unhealthy concepts that he’d assimilated but a veritable wall. His retreat was so thorough that she had trouble even guessing at what lay at his core.

There was a sensation of guilt that she wasn’t trying harder to get past that. That, instead, she was replacing his authority so that his reticence would have less of a poor effect on the household. But she was also worried of what would happen if she were to poke a hole in that emotional wall. What if it was the only thing holding him up? The frustration built within her and she let it vent outward in the form of a sigh.

“Good morning father.” She smiled. “Did you have a good rest?”

He glanced past the newspaper and looked at her horns, flinching and hiding back behind it. “Oh, yes, it was very restful.”

That refusal to address her change struck Kasumi like a knife, perhaps worse. A part of her considered the idea of consuming the trace of fear directed at her and then rejected that. She’d use fear to protect her family if she had to. But she wasn’t going to make it a part of her. That was the previous oni, not her.

She kept it from showing however and turned toward the new source of noise. Nabiki, yawning and stumbling out toward the door.

“Nabiki, I don’t think you have a morning class today. Perhaps you’d like some breakfast first?” 

Her sister stopped and fumbled out her phone. “Oh, crap, it’s Wednesday. Thanks, sis.” 

The middle Tendou stumbled to the table instead and sat down, putting her shoulder bag next to her. The gratitude and relief flowed out of Nabiki and Kasumi took it readily before returning to the kitchen. 

Once in there Kasumi leaned against the counter and took in a deep breath, breathing in the feeling of family, history, and structure that permeated the building. She’d found a balance where she could subsist on the sentiments that her sisters directed toward her unconsciously and what radiated from the house without wearing down the home’s spiritual health, but it meant she was perceptibly weaker than she had been as a human. Her family had started to notice, for all that they were trying to act like nothing had changed in the last month.

To be fair to them, Kasumi had never told them that she had changed so severely in those moments when the oni had betrayed her and she had had to fight for her life. They thought that she was human, and the horns were a side-effect of the possession. For the moment, she was fine with them thinking that and even preferred it in some ways. She’d tried once or twice to tell them, but when she did the concept would start to fall apart before she could push it to form itself into words her sisters could hear. 

Kasumi was vaguely aware of the steel passing through her finger and looked down in time to see the sharpness of the blade part the structure of her flesh. The tip of the finger melted into black shadow and then was pulled back to her hand, reforming into its proper place. The oni blinked and glanced over her shoulder seeking signs of eavesdropping from her two family members.

Curious, she took the knife and started to press against her palm. She saw then, the sharpness being wrapped in the willingness to be hurt that she was projecting. The sharpness cut her structure, but the willingness cut the concept of her structure. She winced and pulled the knife away to see the formed concept of an injury that now sat in the middle of her hand. A wet and fluid concept of blood dripped out of it and she nodded in a sense of satisfied curiosity.

The idea of fortifying herself manifested as a deep breath and she worked to remove the injury from her hand. That immediately proved more difficult than placing it had and after a steadying moment she instead worked to impart the idea of healing and recuperation so that the damage would slowly repair itself and the injury would eventually be removed as time passed. She felt dizzy as the effort passed and stumbled slowly to the first aid drawer to recover bandages and wrap the injury. Then it was a matter of finishing the breakfast. 

She was regretting her experimentation by the time she finished and brought the food out to the table. On top of the common effort of pouring her own love into the food she had drained herself far more than she should have. Nabiki immediately noticed as Kasumi sat down, looking up toward her older sister.

“Are you all right, Kasumi? You look a bit…weird.” Next to her, Soun lowered his newspaper.

Kasumi felt “weird’ in fact she felt stretched thin and wondered what that would look like to a person that still saw in terms of light rather than concept. She waved it off, but graciously accepted the offered emotional support, immediately feeling somewhat better.

“Oh, I just had a small accident. It’s fine. Nothing a bit of fresh air couldn’t fix.”

“Are you certain, Kasumi?” her father said. “We could call a doctor. Or….” He glanced toward her horns. “Or a priest.”

The worry and concern were honest, even if it was tinged with uncertainty and shame at the end. It took some effort to separate them, but Kasumi did manage to gather some of it to herself.

“No, no.” Kasumi said waving them off. “I’m sure everything will be fine. Let’s eat!”

* * *

It was sometime later when Nabiki had left to get to university for her afternoon classes and Soun had taken a seat on the porch to watch the pool and smoke that Kasumi turned on the TV while she worked at cleaning the front room. The device added an air of activity and loose connection to the greater world that filtered through the room to give her a counterpoint to her activities in gathering up the bundles of dust and detritus that sought to hide about the room.

Looking behind her, Kasumi regarded where the table had been kicked out of line just slightly. Nabiki had done that watching the TV yesterday. One of the pillows on the couch was a bit off center from where Akane had been sitting looking through her bag before leaving earlier. There were a thousand such disarrays in that one room. Tiny bits of chaos that said people lived in this house and loved it. She smiled and drank it all in, feeling herself recovering that much more and stopping when she reached the level of balance that she knew would allow the house to flourish.

The simple atmosphere changed as the TV switched to a news broadcast. It started small, a handful of words which Kasumi had taken in as the concepts of curiosity and something else which she didn’t immediately identify until it had blossomed into a cascade of revelation holding her rapt attention and filling the room and house.

On the television, the reporter was interviewing a cheetah woman nearly seven feet tall. The ticker bar underneath the interview called the location Atlanta, Georgia and named the woman Brittany Diggers. It didn’t end there as they also turned to speak to a rather cheerful and naïve seeming harpy named Charlotte. The screen returned to the newsroom and the anchors started talking about other such individuals in other places around the room.

“Father…I’m going shopping.”

“All right, Kasumi, be…wait!” 

The leading impression of panic formed into the sound of scrambling footsteps and her father was soon coming up to her. Filled with concern and the desire to keep her safe. 

“Now wait. You should consider this, Kasumi. People…people won’t understand. Someone could…could…”

He wasn’t wrong. Even if without the news report her statement had distracted him from. There may have been people going public around the world, but that didn’t mean it would be safe for her to just step outside here in Nerima. There very well could be something that goes terribly wrong. She could get hurt, or worse. She worked to form the determination against this, keeping it building against all the chipping worries and fears until she could release it and make it something to show to others.

“I’ll be fine, father.” She said, smiling. “I think I have to do this.”

Kasumi watched the idea of escorting her start to form, creeping up and over his walls like kudzu vines. They were well-intentioned and she wondered briefly if this was way to tear down his walls. But stopped herself. The vines weren’t any healthier than the wall, shot through with fear and desperation. 

“Let me do this on my own first.” He resisted and she eyed those well-meaning tendrils, brushing them away from her. “I’ll be careful. Please, trust me.”

For a moment she thought her words and intent fell off the walls unheard, but slowly, the smothering vines retreated to the tops of the walls, twitching and ready to lash out again. Her father relented and nodded, chewing on his pipe nervously.

“If…if you think so.”

“I’ll be back later, father.” She took off her cleaning apron and set it in the cupboard with the brooms before collecting her purse and walking out the genkan with a wave.

* * *

It was impossible not to note the bursts of shock and fear that occurred as she walked down the street. The emotions directed at her presented themselves so enticingly, but she held strong. She very much was what she ate, and she refused to eat those things. Of more concern to her was the suffocating structures that wore down on things where she looked. Concepts that had stood as honored traditions, but which now glared to her as obsolete and fetid. 

Here where the societal weight of obligation had bound a man and woman together and was slowly eroding their friendship into bitterness. There where a boy feared to wear a dress and be labeled a freak. In the convenience store where the clerk feared to shake the boat and report a superior. A thousand unseen prisons training to constrain the lives she could see.

The sense of pleasant recognition washed over her. “Oh hello, Kasumi. I’m glad to see you. We heard you were ill.”

“Mrs. Yashida!” Kasumi said enthusiastically as she gladly accepted the warm feelings. She considered how to respond and settled on the limited truth that she lived with at her family. She pointed toward her horns. “There was an…incident. But it is entirely resolved now.”

“Ohh. Are those…horns?” A sense of newly acquired recognition and surprise.

Confirmation and casual manner. An impression that it was of little importance. Implied admission of the worries of certain reactions. “Yes, I’m afraid so. They have my family worried about me…being seen. You know.”

“Oh…I imagine so. And…you’re certain that you’re completely…over that condition?” Concern and fear, but uncertainty and a desire to be comforted.

Broad reassurance formed into warm smiles and cheerful words. “I am entirely myself, Mrs. Yashida.”

“Oh, that is very good to hear dear. Does it…never mind.” Relief and calm. Curiosity diverted. Hesitation. “Do you still rent the family dojo for events?”

Eager confirmation. Hope to do business. Unstated financial concerns. “Oh yes, we certainly do. Did you have anything you needed to discuss?”

* * *

Two months after the first time she had stepped out of the house as an oni and Kasumi felt much stronger and happier. As she walked through Nerima, there was less of those stifling concepts that had been closing tight around people. They weren’t entirely gone, but the loose and vibrant spread of compassionate life was slowly gaining ground. It moved from conversation to conversation at the speed of community.

She was rebuilding her position within the community person by person. Some still saw her horns and refused to speak to her, but the desire for status quo was strong and Kasumi had been status quo for so long. The fact that she was actively toppling the status quo as carefully and benevolently as she could wasn’t something immediately obvious. That thought came with some concern. She wanted to think she was acting out of the best interests of the people in her ward, but there was the fact that all that unnecessary structure now made her physically uncomfortable. 

It occurred to Kasumi that she could make it spread faster by just…pushing the matter. In the same way she knew that she could probably destroy the blank conceptual walls her father insisted on wrapping himself in. What she was doing was simply watching for when signs of hidden desires and frustrations made themselves apparent and she spoke to someone to conversationally nudge them toward following their desires. It was sloppy and erratic. Her perceptions were not perfect, and she didn’t see everything. The process was chaotic, but it was chaotic in a natural way. She was influencing no minds save through words and compassion.

The oni turned a corner, cutting through an alley and stopped. There was a lack in front of her. It took her a few moments to resolve the lack into the concept of a tear and find the structure it had. Beyond that, she felt something approaching. The concepts were momentarily other, but she was resolving context to them and identifying them quickly. Judgment, self-righteousness, violence, ruthlessness. It was shaping itself in a manner similar to her with the visual shape of a human, but it was certainly not. And it had fed greatly and without restraint.

But it wasn’t here yet, and Kasumi eyed the structure of the tear in front of her. Someone looking in the alley would have seen a bright and terrible golden light pouring out and then a rising darkness of red and dark green swirling about it with Kasumi at the center. Her nails grew long and sharp as she reached out, her physical action carrying her intention, and gripped at the structural points of the tear and slicing through them. Almost immediately the tear started falling apart and closing in on itself. The approaching thing without roared in rage but couldn’t reach the opening before it closed down upon itself.

Kasumi felt her legs failing and toppled back to the ground. The familiar feeling of early morning Nerima surrounded her, and she drunk it in the form of deep steadying breaths. Still she felt drained and she didn’t care to draw in too much from around her. Climbing to her feet, she soothed that feeling of panic and concern that had erupted within her. 

“Well, I had thought this would be a harder job.” Concepts of compliment and approval. 

Her desire to look closer at the new person resolved into the physical action of turning to look at the source of the voice. They were human though functioning on the level of concept, similar to her in the couple of hours before she’d become an oni. An older man wrapped in the concepts of Shintoism and mysticism that a human eye would see as archaic robes and sandals. 

Confusion and desire for information. Identity and categorization requested. Politeness and grace in spite of everything. “I do apologize, but what was that and who are you?”

Mild amusement spilled outward as the man’s physical position changed and he examined the site of the tear closer. He was analyzing and here and there smoothing out disruptions left by Kasumi’s hasty and instinctual reactions. A decision was made, and Kasumi had the sense of deeper secrets opened.

“Come to the Hakuba shrine and maybe we’ll have further answers for you.” He handed her a card filled with the idea of welcome invitation. 

Kasumi investigated the card and assimilated the information it contained. Understanding and tentative acceptance of the offer. “I think I shall do that, thank you.”

* * *

Kasumi sat down across from the old man as the young girl behind him tried very hard not to stare at her.

“You are aware of the concept of a multiverse, I expect?”

“Yes, Master Hakuba. I read science fiction and fantasy occasionally.” Kasumi said.

“Okay then. Now, most of those worlds exist flanked by dozens upon dozens of alternate worlds that are almost the same. There maybe a handful of people that exist in one world that don’t in another. Slight or major changes in history, but, by large very much the same.”

“Sort of like in Back to the Future with the alternate timelines.” Kasumi asked.

“Very much so. Now, our world is different as most of the timelines we neighbor are extremely different from our own.” He said. “Different types of power, different creatures, different planets even. Those who travel between such alternate worlds tend to call our type of world a ‘crossover’ world.”

Kasumi blinked and sheer disbelief manifested as clearing her throat and rapidly blinking her eyes. “What, like a fanfic?”

Much enjoyment erupted as loud laughter from the old man before he answered. “I think that was the origin of the term, yes. In any case, worlds such as ours tend to be either much nicer or much nastier than their neighbors.”

Kasumi thought about that for a moment. “We have one of the luckier worlds then, don’t we?”

“Yes. The supernatural was exposed by the prevention of a demonic invasion in east Texas. It was very close to spreading terror and witch hunts throughout the world. To be honest, there are some nations that have reacted that way. And yet, when denizens started going public, they’ve largely been successful at getting accepted.”

“I was pelted with soy beans last week while shopping.” 

Kasumi remembered the feeling of the small projectiles loaded up with the anger and fear of the young man and woman throwing them at her. Had they been actually trained in spiritual arts they might have done serious harm to her. As it was, she’d had bruises that lasted for the next day.

“I saw the report of that. As I remember, your neighbors shut down the two who attacked you.”

“They did at that.” Kasumi admitted.

“There’s a large percentage of the population willing to accept denizens as people. And only a few denizens who seem set on acting like true monsters. We should eventually find a complete assimilation. Which is where we come in. As you witnessed, some of our neighboring timelines sometimes spill over. This is not usually too disruptive. We now have trade with the Makai, for instance, but sometimes…”

“Sometimes it is that thing behind the tear the other day.” Kasumi said, nodding.

“That and we have our own monsters, human and otherwise. My question to you is if you would be interested in helping us keep this world safe?”

The concept the old-man pushed out was a very large “us”. He wasn’t simply speaking about himself and the girl. A tentative request for clarification manifested from within Kasumi’s thoughts. “Who is us?”

“We call ourselves the Templars.”

“Like in The Secret World?”

Another burst of amusement, this time rueful and laced with mild irritation.

“That was sort of a worst-case scenario certain people published as a game,” the man said. “It does make for easy explanation though.”

* * *

Coming back to Nerima after leaving the Hakuba shrine was a new revelation. As she observed the passing quilt of structure and disarray, she analyzed her own response to such things. The loving step of an old married couple did not disturb her the way a hollow relationship of mere obligation had. The young woman luxuriating in the joy of wearing a new dress for the first time did not upset her. Structure was not inherently uncomfortable to her. Only when it became out of balance did she finding it glaring to her perception. 

That was the distinction she decided. Order was a complement to Chaos and they moved with each other like dancing partners. If order grew too dominant, life was stifled under the weight of a burdensome tyranny. Structure weakened and cracked under the weight and resolve withered like grapes getting too much sun. If chaos was given free reign, spontaneity was overwhelmed in the voiceless noise and joy was torn asunder in the cacophony and pandemonium.

In a very real way, she was a being of chaos now and her melody was a jam session dancing around from one feeling to the next rather than moving with the precision of a composed melody. Both were beautiful in their own ways. She would dance as her compassion led her.

A feeling of emptiness and absence pushed into her thoughts and she stopped to regard it closely. She examined the memories that rose up and took shape for an unknown period of time. And then a wistful wish took form in the world as a sigh. She walked away from the empty chiropractor’s clinic.

“I just wish I had a dancing partner.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, yes, Kasumi literally feeds on the love and friendship directed at her, or any positive emotion really. She refuses to pull more than is offered. Once she started rebuilding her connections to Nerima, this meant she got a lot stronger. Once the Hakuba Shrine started giving her the blessed rice and water, she was able to get even stronger off of that. This relationship is part of why the Templars won't often call her out of the area since presumably they respect even the unspoken covenant that Kasumi has with her family and neighborhood.
> 
> And yes, I did get meta in the world building. I just liked the thought of that explanation and I couldn't think of a place that would fit it happening in Late Start prime since that is not meant to be an epic storyline but is focused on the personal lives of the Ranma 1/2 cast. Meaning Kasumi is a much bigger player than any of them in some respects.
> 
> Also a note. Kasumi operating on concept makes writing with her as primary perspective really challenging. She DID start operating at that level while still human, but now that she's an oni she ONLY operates on that level which is a bit difficult to portray in text regularly.
> 
> On the knife sequence, I got reminded to do a self-harm tag on that. I initially was thinking in terms of Kasumi approaching it as "this is a thing I should know the workings of" rather than a desire to self-harm, but it does come with conceptually being willing to hurt herself. Also, that act trained her at three points: forming the concept of being willing to hurt herself, the actual injury, and the effort to make the injury start healing again. Also, as I have said, triggers are weird and not logical so I should have known a bit better.
> 
> Final note, this is really early in Akane's university career and before Nabiki was a vampire, say about two years back. So by the time Ranma's shown up, Nerima is probably a haven for people that live outside normal expectations due to Kasumi's efforts.


End file.
